


Breakfast?

by sarinamydear



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Breakfast, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 07:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarinamydear/pseuds/sarinamydear
Summary: The first time Eddie asked him to have breakfast, Jon thought it was a business meeting. He was surprised when, upon asking the nature of it, Edward had laughed and told him no, just for breakfast, and wasn’t that what friends did?





	Breakfast?

The first time Eddie asked him to have breakfast, Jon thought it was a business meeting. He was surprised when, upon asking the nature of it, Edward had laughed and told him no, just for breakfast, and wasn’t that what friends did? But Jon didn’t have friends, didn’t like people as a whole, lived secluded with only his books and his chemicals. He had to turn him down. He tried to pretend he didn’t feel a twinge in his chest to see the Riddler’s face fall ever so slightly at the rejection before brushing it off with a flippant “your loss” and leaving without so much as a goodbye. Jonathan was left to ponder the entire encounter alone, blank faced and frozen in his seat before the urge to work pushed him back to his toxins.

 

It wasn’t brought up again until they co-hosted a heist together, something they rarely did as Jonathan despised the way Ed couldn’t stop himself from leaving clues of some kind, which tended to lead to his arrest more often than not. But the Scarecrow was desperate for these rarer supplies, and Edward was the one who could afford the muscle behind getting them. 

They were fleeing the scene, their bounty in hand - well, figuratively speaking, it was all in the back of the van that was currently hurtling down the freeway - and as soon as they felt they were safe enough to have gotten away with it (assuming the latest riddle wasn’t solved before they could part ways) Edward turned from the side view mirror his eyes had been dutifully glued to as lookout, his hopeful green eyes popping brilliantly in the passing light of the streetlamps, framed as they were by his sleek purple mask. Jon spared him the briefest of glances from his own mess of a mask, then immediately adhered his gaze to the road as thought that would dissuade the man from asking whatever he so obviously had on his mind. 

“What d’ya want, Edward?”

“Have breakfast with me, Jon.”

“Why on Earth would you wanna do that?” His grip on the wheel tightened as he realized he’d used ‘you’ instead of ‘I’. Nygma was a smart man, he’d most definitely pick up on that.

“Because I do.” Jonathan could almost feel the knowing smirk coming from his passenger, but he refused to take his eyes off the road. “Because you’re intriguing and I want to see more of you outside of the mask. Because I’m hungry, and dawn isn’t all that far away.” He could give the answer they both knew he wanted to and they could have what would likely be a good time, or he could give the answer he felt he had to give. Because he was stubborn. Because Edward couldn’t always get what he wanted.

Because he was afraid.

“I ain’t one of your riddles, Edward. Answer’s still no.”

 

Crane’s answer remained the same time after time, but Edward was nothing if not persistent, especially now that he knew it wasn’t that Jonathan truly didn’t want to. He’d ask after every heist, every rogues meeting. Hell, he’d call just because it was a Wednesday and ask. The constant repetition would usually irritate Jon to no end, and often times it did, and the no would be huffed and accompanied with a glare. But it was also at times endearing, and his answer would be softer, his eyes averted as he quickly thought up a subject change.

Crane’s answer remained the same, until one day it didn’t. It had been years of asking at that point, and the closest Ed ever got was when they happened to sit next to each other in the cafeteria while they were both in Arkham. 

But this time it was different. _They_ were different. Jon had been mangled beyond recognition by Croc during the Asylum debacle. If it hadn’t been for the blood stained burlap, Ed wouldn’t have even known it was him. It took months of surgery - the best surgeons the Riddler could find - and physical therapy for him to become self-sufficient again. They fought, Jonathan lashed out in a deadly mixture of cabin fever, fear, wounded pride, and frustration at being unable to continue his work in this state, and Edward left the room crying more times than he could count.

But finally, finally, Jon could move around on his own, albeit slower than before, with the assistance of a hinged knee brace. Edward suggested he use a cane only once, and was met with such contempt at the idea that he never mentioned it again ( _I’m not an invalid, Edward, I am to be feared. Who’s going to be afraid of an old man with a fuckin’ CANE? Not batman, I can tell you that._ ). 

It was in a moment of rare silence between them, Jonathan reading and Edward working on some coding when the younger looked up from the screen to watch his companion, smiling fondly at the way he subconsciously mouthed some of the bigger words on the page, silently theorizing to himself. There was a fondness in his heart that must have leaked into his voice when he spoke.

“Jon. Have breakfast with me?”

It took the other a moment to drag himself from the page he was so intently focused on, his blue eyes considering Edward for so long the man started fidgeting in discomfort. What could Crane possibly be considering that kept his gaze on him so intently?

“… Alright.”

The surprised smile that spread across Eddie’s face at the acceptance lit up the room, and if the corners of Jon’s own scarred lips turned up in response, well who would believe that that could have ever truly happened?


End file.
